But it was the happy choice of a puppet for a hero that gave the story the tang and spice of novelty, and the sparkle of a fairy tale, that kept it from being too "goody goody," and made it stand out against a host of imitators, so that with the passing of the years it has become a child classic.
In spite of the popularity and universal acceptance of the moving pictures as a mode of public entertainment, there still exists a form of amusement that delighted Greek and Roman children, and their elders, too, before the Christian era dawned-the puppet show.
In nearly every large American city there is a section known as "Little Italy" where the transplanted Italians have settled, bringing with them to their new country the customs, the cookery and the amusements of the homeland. And here flourishes the puppet show. I remember visiting one several years ago. A long, narrow room was filled with a chattering crowd, sitting contentedly on hard wooden benches, and looking eagerly toward the small stage at the farther end. There, hung upon a row of hooks, was a curious collection of limp and dangling marionettes, mere creatures of wood and wire, of cotton, velvet and tinsel. Dejected and lifeless they seemed, but a few minutes later when a one-man concertina orchestra had seated himself beside the platform, all was changed. The puppeteers climbed up into a balcony overlooking the stage, and each held the strings of a puppet (much as you may see Pinocchio holding the letters of the word "Introduction" in the sketch above). Then the marionettes began to walk and talk, to strut the stage and to act out their little comedies and tragedies, with all the fire and realism of flesh and blood actors.
So does Carlo Lorenzini pull the strings of Pinocchio's wayward impulses, and make him dance for our amusement. We laugh at his shortcomings, but we are warned by his mistakes. And we are glad to see him transformed into a real boy at the last, with a real boy's chances of success in the world.
Violet Moore Higgins.
